


Met Center

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a Friday night, Harvey barges into Mike's apartment, demanding to borrow a tie and a pair of Converse.  Why?  He's going to the Met Center Ball and the theme of said ball is Punk: From Chaos to Couture.  Did Harvey forget to mention the fact that Mike's going with him? </p>
<p>The beginning of this was part co-written, part rp'd with dietpunkfics ... thanks, Megipedia!!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Met Center

The banging on the door startled Mike, causing him to nearly drop his bowl of cereal on the floor. A long, busy week at work had left Mike utterly exhausted and all he’d wanted to do on a Friday night was relax. Harvey had left work early for reasons unknown, so Mike had taken the opportunity to go home early as well and get some much needed rest.

Mike set his bowl on the coffee table and headed for the door. “What?” he asked as he pulled the door open.

“Oh good, you’re home. I need to borrow a pair of shoes and a tie.” Harvey stood in the hallway, wearing a pair of black slacks, an untucked white dress shirt and …

“What the hell is in your hair?” Mike couldn’t stop staring at Harvey’s head, and his hair. It was slicked back and very, very dark.

“It’s called gel,” Harvey retorted. “You should invest in some, tame that mess of yours.”

Mike frowned at his boss, a hand instinctively going to his hair. “No,” he shot back. “I was referring to the color. Did you get attacked by a bucket of KoolAid on your way here?”

“Donna would be offended.” Harvey leaned against the doorjamb and eyed Mike.

“Wait,” Mike said. “Donna did this? Did you lost a bet to her? She’s gotta have something epic on you to let her do this!”

“You really need to get a social life,” Harvey said. “It’s the Met Ball tonight and the theme is Punk, from Chaos to Couture. So, you’re going to loan me a pair of your Converse and one of your godawful skinny ties.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Mike asked. “You hate my ties.”

“I do,” Harvey agreed as he pushed past Mike and began to dig around Mike’s couch. He uncovered a couple of ties and tossed them at Mike. “I’m sure you have something more obnoxious than those.”

“Obnoxious?” Mike scoffed. “Those are Zegna!”

“I’m impressed, I actually managed to teach you something,” Harvey said. “They’re still godawful.”

“The rest are in my bedroom - hey!” Mike ran after Harvey, who’d headed right into Mike’s bedroom and had begun rifling through Mike’s bed.

Harvey came back from Mike’s sheets and comforter holding a fairly large dildo, and waved it at Mike. “Little ambitious?”

“I don’t keep my ties in my bed,” Mike said, his face bright red.

Harvey quirked an eyebrow, lifting a tie off one of Mike’s bedposts.

“Okay,” Mike acquiesced. “I don’t normally keep ties in my bed.”

“Special occasion then?” Harvey replied.

“I, um … “

“Just stop while you’re ahead, kid.”

“You know,” Mike said, “you should really get past the kid thing.”

Harvey shrugged and slipped the tie he’d grabbed from Mike’s bedpost under his collar, clearly enjoying the effect it had on Mike. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that using a dildo the size of a six-year-old’s arm automatically qualified you to be a man.”

Mike shook his head and watched Harvey move around his bedroom, pulling a pair of black Converse from under his window. “Are you sure you’re not dying? This … hey, what are you doing with my shoes?”

Harvey sat on the edge of the bed and slipped the shoes on, deftly tying the laces. “I told you, I need to borrow them.”

“But … those are my chucks.”

Harvey dismissed Mike’s protest with an almost regal hand wave. “And now they’re mine, at least for the evening.”

“Okay,” Mike said slowly. “Your fault if you end up getting some weird foot fungus for wearing something that isn’t Tom Ford.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harvey said. “My shoes are Gucci.”

Mike gave Harvey a mocking bow. “My apologies.”

“Where are the rest of your ties?” Harvey asked, standing and looking around Mike’s shoebox sized bedroom. “Don’t you have something vintage and tacky, Williamsburg?”

“From kid to Williamsburg, I’m honored,” Mike said. “They’re hanging from the back of my closet. Why?”

Harvey headed straight for Mike’s closet and began looking through Mike’s collection of ties.

“Seriously, Harvey, what’s this all about? Jesus, would you just come out of the closet for a minute?” Mike instantly regretted his choice of words.

“So says the man with the giant dildo in his bed.” Harvey poked his head out of Mike’s closet and gave him a pointed look.

Mike crossed his arms and fixed Harvey with a glare. “Harvey. What’s going on?”

“I have an extra ticket, so you’re going to come with me.”

“To what?” Mike asked, exasperated.

“The. Met. Ball. I told you earlier, weren’t you paying attention?” Harvey disappeared back into the closet and began tossing clothes in the direction of Mike’s bed.

“I was distracted by the hair.” Mike edged over to the closet and hesitantly reached out to touch Harvey’s hair. Harvey pulled back but, after a minute, tilted his head forward and let Mike touch it. “How much did she put it?”

“Honestly, I didn’t watch so I have no idea.”

“I still can’t believe you let her do this to you,” Mike said. Harvey’s hair was a bit tacky and almost … purple. He didn’t look like himself at all.

“I don’t let Donna do anything,” Harvey replied. “She just does it, haven’t you learned anything, kid?”

“And we’re back to kid,” Mike grumbled, his hand dropping to his side.

“Just shut up and get dressed,” Harvey said, handing Mike a white dress shirt and a tie. “I’m sure you’ve got a pair of skinny jeans lying around here somewhere.”

“Just because I live in Williamsburg, it doesn’t automatically mean I wear skinny jeans,” Mike said. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Harvey inclined his head to the pair of jeans hanging from a knob on Mike’s dresser that were clearly a pair of skinny jeans.

Mike huffed and snagged the pair of jeans and headed for the bathroom, half closing the door as he started to get changed. “Happy?” he called.

“Ecstatic,” Harvey replied.

“Wonderful,” Mike said as he stuffed himself into the jeans. He’d just begun zipping them up when the door opened.

“Stay there, we’ll fix that mess on your head,” Harvey said as he wedged himself behind Mike in the small bathroom.

“Hey, I’m trying to get dressed here!” Mike protested.

“I can see that.” Harvey reached around Mike and began rummaging in the medicine cabinet. “No underwear, classy.”

“They’re tight jeans!”

“Like I said, classy.” Harvey tapped the bottle of gel against the palm of his hand. “Full bottle, I’m not surprised. Now hold still.”

Mike watched Harvey in the mirror as Harvey squeezed a bit of gel into his hands and began to run his hands through Mike’s hair. Mike bit back the groan at Harvey’s rough manhandling of his hair, strong fingers that pulled his hair this way and that. A tug here, a twist there - Mike fought desperately to keep his face impassive. A hard on in his skinny jeans would not be comfortable, not to mention he didn’t need his boss knowing that he got Mike hot.

Harvey reached around Mike and rinsed his hands in the sink before slipping the tie under Mike’s lapels. “Not bad,” he commented as he tied Mike’s tie and gave it a sharp tug. “Get some shoes on, we’ll just make it.” His body pressed against Mike’s back as he edged out of the bathroom.

Mike gave a little groan and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Harvey hadn’t done a bad job with his hair, sides smoothed back and the top tufted up in distinct spikes. It looked very punk. “Guyliner?” he called.

“Too much!” Harvey called back. “We’re going for subtle!”

“Says the man with KoolAid in his hair,” Mike grumbled as he tugged on a pair of shoes and headed to the living room where Harvey waited by the front door.

Harvey gave Mike an appraising look and nodded. “Good,” he said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Mike’d had … a lot of champagne. He’d probably had too much champagne, but every time he’d turned around, someone handed him a glass. He couldn’t deny that it was a great party - everyone who was anyone had been there. Mike had even danced with Miley Cyrus … or was it Anne Hathaway?

“Come on, Williamsburg.”

Mike felt a tug on the back of his shirt and spun around, nearly dumping what was left of his champagne. “Where’re we going?” he said, blinking at Harvey.

“It’s time to go,” Harvey said.

“Already?”

Harvey chuckled and nodded. “Already,” he said, wrapping a fist around Mike‘s tie and giving it a tug. “Say goodnight to the champagne.”

Mike gave his glass a little wave before setting it on the nearest table. “Lead on, Captain,” he said.

Once in the car, Harvey loosened his tie and undid the top few buttons of his dress shirt. It had been a good night, and Harvey was fairly certain he’d snagged a few new clients for Pearson Hardman.

Mike glanced over at Harvey and his mouth dropped open. His eyes were drawn to that small v of bared skin and as he felt his cock begin to stir, he looked down at the crotch of his jeans. “Don’t even think about it,” he muttered. “These jeans aren’t roomy enough.”

Harvey coughed and looked over at Mike. “Did you just talk to your cock?” he asked.

Mike glanced over at Harvey and nodded. “It’s not allowed to get hard in these jeans,” he said. “Not enough room.”

Harvey gave Mike a positively evil grin and grabbed Mike’s tie, tugging him close. “Do I make you hard, Mike?” he asked softly.

“Yes, damn you,” Mike retorted. And maybe all of that champagne had been a bad idea.

Harvey chuckled and leaned in close, so his lips were inches from Mike’s. “I should have gotten you drunk ages ago, if that was all it took for you to finally admit it,” he said, cutting of whatever Mike was going to say by covering Mike’s lips with his in a bruising kiss.

Mike gave a groan, eagerly returning the kiss until … “Fuck, ow,” he said, shoving Harvey away. “Seriously, cannot get hard in these jeans.”

“Good thing we’re here, then,” Harvey said, tugging Mike out of the car by the tie and practically dragging him through the lobby and into the elevator.

Mike leaned against the elevator wall and eyed Harvey. “You’ve known,” he said. “How long?”

“A while,” Harvey replied, hand still wrapped around Mike’s tie. “But I could tell you were never going to make the first move, so I did.” The elevator stopped and Harvey tugged Mike out, leading him through the penthouse by the tie.

“You’re showering,” Mike said as he deftly slipped out of the tie and shoved Harvey in the direction of the bathroom.

“Then you’re showering with me,” Harvey bargained, stripping as he padded towards the bathroom and started the shower.

“Deal,” Mike agreed quickly, dropping his clothes next to Harvey’s and joining Harvey under the spray.

Harvey hummed, his hands slipping and sliding over Mike’s wet skin. “Okay to get hard now?” he asked, wrapping a hand around Mike’s cock.

Mike hissed and leaned into Harvey’s touch. “Fuck, yes,” he groaned, fisting a hand in Harvey’s hair.

Harvey chuckled and pried Mike’s hand from his hair. “Good,” he said, dropping to his knees in the shower and engulfing Mike’s cock with his mouth.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Mike cried, trying to keep vertical as Harvey sucked his cock like a lollypop. “I can’t … fuck … Harvey!” As Harvey practically swallowed his cock, Mike came hard, gripping Harvey’s shoulders to remain upright.

Harvey stood and gave Mike a kiss, giving Mike’s bottom lip a sharp bite. “Pretty sure you can still fuck,” he teased as he shoved Mike under the water so Mike could rinse the gel from his hair.

“Ha, ha,” Mike replied, rinsing his hair before switching places with Harvey. He waited until Harvey was busy washing his hair, before wrapping a hand around Harvey’s cock. He enjoyed the moans and groans he elicited from Harvey, and happily licked his hand clean after Harvey came with a very loud shout.

“Imp,” Harvey said, landing a loud smack to Mike’s ass as the exited the shower.

“Kinky, I like it,” Mike tossed over his shoulder as he quickly dried himself off and headed in the direction of Harvey’s bed. He belly flopped onto the duvet and sighed happily. “Damn your bed’s nice.”

Harvey chuckled and laid down next to Mike, tugging him close. “I know,” he murmured, tugging Mike’s earlobe with his teeth. “Let me guess, you’re not leaving it anytime soon?”

“Nope,” Mike replied, snuggling back against Harvey, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Harvey’s cock nestled between his ass cheeks. “Not leaving, you’re stuck with me.”

“I … am surprisingly okay with that,” Harvey replied.


End file.
